


I'm not sure honestly just have this

by peeisstoredintheheart



Series: writing practices for situations and characters i guess [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: JUST, M/M, Panic Attacks, also get panic attacks, and sleep deprivation, are Gil and 'Lex, he's Not Good, i'm sorry i had a panic attack and then decided to write one, if you don't, it's like writing practice, lmao kill me, oh lmao, originally it was gonna be Aaron who found him, panic attacks caused by stress, the only important people, the others are just mentioned, why the fuck am i good at tagging, y'all can use it for reference, y'know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 13:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peeisstoredintheheart/pseuds/peeisstoredintheheart
Summary: okay sobasically i had a panic attack and decided to write it purely for writing practice and reference later onand was like: haH let's make this a series of writing practice things for characters and situations and y'all can use it tooor idkidcdo what you want i just don't k n o w





	I'm not sure honestly just have this

**Author's Note:**

> lmao i don't even know but enjoy  
> also you can say Laf/Alex is a Thing™ because i almost wrote it as one but eh just like use your imagination

The overwhelming panic is what set in first.

Alexander choked as he felt his throat start to close, though he knew that truly wasn’t the case, the thought didn’t cross his mind. He started to hyperventilate as tears leaked down his face. Every panicked breath he took hurt him in the center of his chest. He fell to his knees, not seeing anyone rushing to his aid, which he definitely found strange. Someone was always there for him… he started to panic more. ‘They’re dead, aren’t they? You killed them like you killed you mother!’ He could never recognize who’s voice was the one who berated him, but he whimpered, associating it with pain, hollow breathing, and a terrifying sense of panic. 

He choked on a sob, not making noise as he stood in the middle if the office hallways, papers slipping from his hand, still unable to breathe.  
The fact he was utterly alone was next, of course.

He whimpered, only listening to the berating voice, that he fancied was possibly similar to his uncle’s, the uncle Peter, for whom his other, more obscure brother was named. The uncle who shot himself. More panicked flooded in as it berated him more for killed his uncle.  
What finally set in was that the floor was so much closer than before.

That was strange. He didn’t feel any pain as he usually would from collapsing.

He didn’t remember ever dropping his papers, but there they were, underneath his knees from when he had fallen. His breathing was still painful, he was getting lightheaded, and he was shaking and suddenly felt like it was freezing. He couldn’t quite understand why.

He continued to stare at the ground, slowly remembering what to do. Five things you can see. 

‘Simple… my hands. They’re shaking. The floor. It’s a dark blue. His papers. They were starting to crumble together and get wet from his tears. Those were important. The wall. It’s a sad, light gray. He wondered if someone would ever paint over it. A plant. It’s in a red pot. It’s fake.’ Okay, good, Alex.

Four things you can hear. ‘Uh… not so simple. Distant arguing. I believe it’s Washington and Adams. How strange? The air-conditioning. Oh god that’s loud. The shitty music one hears in an elevator. Did someone just use it? Footsteps. I wonder if someone’s approaching…’ Great job, Alex.

Three things you can smell? ‘Fuck… Coffee. Probably from me. It’s burnt. Perfume. Was someone approaching still? He only knew Lafayette and Angelica to wear perfume… Uh… f-final thing… Ink. Definitely from me… my hands are covered in it. Better than blood, I suppose.’ This really wasn’t helping… Keep going, Alex.

But two things you can touch. ‘The floor… it’s… carpet? And shoes… High heels? Seriously, is it Lafayette or Angelica…?’ Is someone talking? He can’t hear the words. Try harder, Alex.

One thing you can taste. ‘Blood… coming from my lip. Have I bitten through it? I guess so… to not make too much noise?’ Laf. 

It was Lafayette. Not Angelica. It was someone who can understand and help him.

Some panic drifted away just seeing his good friend, and most of it disappeared as he was brought into the other’s arms, French flooding his ears, Lafayette flooding his other senses. Wine. Perfume. Fancy coffee. Damn rich people.

He sobbed in relief, holding onto Lafayette as the panic finally subsided. He was exhausted, eyes closing as he felt himself being lifted. He nuzzled into the warmth, drifting off into sleep as he was carried to his office. Someone's office. Who knows.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu with prompts or other things on like here or Google+ or Tumblr  
> tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/madelinebeilscimdt  
> Google+: https://plus.google.com/+MadelineBeilschimdtlmaoLookAtThisFailure


End file.
